


Frozen In Your Arms

by HamiltonMarbleHornetsTWD



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Ghost TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ghost Wilbur Soot, Non-Canonical Character Death, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:20:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamiltonMarbleHornetsTWD/pseuds/HamiltonMarbleHornetsTWD
Summary: He was cold, so so cold, feeling like ice to the touch of even the ghost that sat beside him, brown eyes familiarly worried - reminding him of a time, long ago, when he'd fallen sick with a fever,That same panic was there now, years later, though it was worsened.Now Will couldn't do much of anything to help his younger brother
Comments: 19
Kudos: 327





	1. Frozen in your grasp

Tommy shivered as the storm raged, unforgiving and unrelenting outside of the small tent which did practically nothing to protect him against the harsh chill he'd been facing since his exile. Ghostbur knelt down beside the bed, hands clasping onto his younger brothers’ cold one tightly, almost so tight that the freezing boy could almost convince himself that it was Wilbur, and not the older brothers’ ghost that sat there in the storm.

Ghostbur whispered, gentle words that flowed from his mouth and covered the sixteen year old like a weighted blanket in an effort to keep him warm, but the rain continued to pour, droplets dripping onto the face of the teen as the rain began to break through the wool. The ghost stood quickly, attempting to patch the hole with more wool, despite knowing that this would only work for twenty minuets at best – the ghost's unneeded breath came out heavy as he panicked, brown eyes glancing down to his shivering brother. 

Tommy's hair was soaked, rain forcing down the blond locks that would have no doubt been in disarray with the wind howling through the tent, his skin was pale, and the ex-president began to panic when he noticed the blue tint to the teens lips, quickly returning to his previous position at the bed side, terrified to leave his brothers side – even if he wanted to run to Technoblade and Phil, or someone in L'manberg, maybe Eret, and beg for their help. Golden tears began to drip, the first time he truly felt a negative emotion without forgetting why almost instantly, was because his brother was suffering. Tommy's frame - thin from hunger, drenched in water that smudged his dirt covered and torn shirt, and the dirt around his face – shivered uncontrollably, small squeaks and wimpers came out stuttered.

Tommy had been talking, only a few minuets ago, he’d been faintly begging Ghostbur to stay, to not leave, he’d been mumbling about Techno and Phil, and Tubbo – countless others, some of which the ghost remembered and others he didn’t – words tripped against his teeth, clacking together as they stumbled from his mouth in stammered and slurred half sentences. 

And then he had gone silent.

There was no build up, no steady loss, no softening words coming from the boy – he just stopped, a sentence falling short from his breath, whatever words he'd had to say were lost inside his mind. All that continued was the teens shivering form, clattering jaw, and the storm that Ghostbur wanted to lash out at, to get rid of in anyway possible because it was hurting his baby brother.

Tommy's hand was freezing - if Ghostbur had been alive, he wondered if it would have hurt him, if it would have stung against his palm like a knife slicing into skin, if it would have been salt in the wound to continue grasping to his brother’s lifeline, clasping onto it because the blond couldn’t do it himself. He hoped that Alivebur would have. He hoped that the man he once was would have stayed beside his brother, maybe be able to help provide warmth or safety (maybe if he’d been Alivebur, Tommy would still be in L'manberg), but he couldn’t, not now as a ghost, he couldn’t protect his brother the same way Technoblade or Phil could have – but the hybrids weren't hear, and Ghostbur was.

Tommy's breathing was strained, physically hard to take in breath, and forceful to exhale, stuttered and painful sounds escaped the boy struggling to breath in the cold. His hand lay limp in the ghost’s unrelenting grip, his body shivered loosely, tension gone – his fight going with it.

For a second, lightning blue eyes locked with grayed out chocolate, before blue slipped closed again. The shivers that wracked the tiny frame on the bed began to slow, halting all together as Ghostbur began to panic, began to plead with his brother to hold on for just another few minuets until the sunrise, until Dream came back through that portal, a person who could help, as he grasped onto his brother’s ice body, feeling the familiar thumping in the boys chest slow with the stuttered breathing and shivering. Eventually, all stopping at once.  
As the sun peaked over the horizon, Ghostbur’s scream echoed through the island, Echoing unnaturally as Dream stepped through the portal. Soon accompanied by the tag on their communications.

TommyInnit Froze To Death.

The world halted, tilting on its axis as each member had time to realize what that meant. And as they all came to realize, the horrified, gut wrenching screams from Tubbo, and the harsh sobs from Niki accompanied it.

Dream stumbled, watching as the rain came to a halt as he made his way closer to the sobbing, the apologising, the pleading and bargaining with the world that came from a rain soaked tent in the middle. 

His masked gaze landing on the familiar body of someone who had once called him a friend, held in the arms of a man who was once a madman, who was now sobbing pleading, the yellow in his sweater turning dark, the stomach soon being stained with deep crimson that coated most surfaces.

“Ghostbur?” his voice came out whispered, feeling sick as he stumbled closer to the man.

“I tried, I tried, I tried to help, I tried so hard, he just had to make it until sunrise, until you got here, he would have been fine but I couldn’t help, I tried, I tried, I tried, Dream, I promise I did” his words were lost in a mumble of apology’s and pleading, becoming static in the masked man’s mind. 

Covered eyes staring down at the teen, who looked so young like this, body relaxed and expression peaceful – it didn’t match the situation.  
The boys skin was pale, lips blue, skin tinted diamonds, blond hair still dripping rain, still weighted by the water that had fallen. Dream reached a hand forward, gently running it through the soaked blond locks, no heat coming from the body before him.

“I’m sorry, Tommy”


	2. Ghosting Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started as a whisper, stuttered through clattering teeth and soft as a gust of wind - but he heard it, clear as he could see the sun.  
> He heard the whisper of his name.

The funeral was nothing special.  
There were no theatrics, no balloons or words planned, no feuds between two sides of opposite powers.  
It just was.

Niki was the one who cried the most. Her hands clutched as pale as snow to Eret's shirt, the revolution uniform they both were - though burned and torn in places - still fit them, Eret's was stained with a deep crimson.  
Fundy remembered watching him the night before, furiously scrubbing at the jacket, sobbing as he did - unknowing of the presence of the young fox. He guessed that Eret had gotten most of his emotions out that night, watching as he now emptily stared at the grave, an arm wrapped tightly around Niki - as though he were afraid she'd slip through his grasp. His glasses had been left at the castle, as had his crown.

Fundy, himself, dawned the revolutionary uniform, though his original had been damaged utterly beyond repair. He instead wore his fathers. The sleeves much too long, as were the pant legs, the shirt reached too far, and yet it fit correctly around his waist. He felt like he was five again, childishly putting on his father's coats and running around the house.

Ghostbur wasn't in the group of people, Fundy had watched him walk off - silent and grey, looking more dead than he ever had. He noticed the ghosts hands and up his arms were stained a deep blue, the dye he so often clutched too hadn't helped. Though he still clung to it like it would, until light had caught it, making the dye look lighter, more like ice. It was gone before any of them had a chance to react, thrown into the distance, before the spirit walked the opposite way. 

Phil was there, he kept his head down the entire time, had covering his eyes. His shoulders were shaking harshly, and Fundy noticed how tightly his fists had been clenched.   
He lost his second son. The first killed by his own hand after (how he sees it as) failing to take actions to stop his decline sooner.  
And the second, died with only a ghost to clutch onto, away from the country he helped discover, and build, and save, after (again, how he sees it) failing to visit, to see if his outcast for a second time son was okay.

Technoblade wasn't there.   
Fundy hated that the other hybrid wouldn't even go near L'manberg, hated how the piglin had growled to Tubbo that he didn't have the "right" to bury Tommy in L'manberg after what he did.  
The fox found it hypocritical of him. And yet, he couldn't hate the oldest brother. He could hate his actions, hate his words, but he couldn't hate Technoblade himself.  
Not after the warrior had done more than he had to help Tommy, not since he had protected and loved the blond teen since he was able too, not when Wilbur (he sounded so much like Wilbur. The echo was gone and it was his father. For a moment it was his father) had drawn Techno away from the group taking Tommy away, back to the outskirts of Logstedshire, not when Fundy watched as Techno clung to Wilbur's ghostly form, body shaking as he shook his head over and over, as though trying to convince Wilbur that this wasn't true - that it couldn't be true.

Tubbo was silent.  
He stared, empty, at the grave. Standing at Phil's side as his hands clutched, white knuckled, to the compass around his neck.   
Fundy could tell the president was broken, and most likely blaming himself for the death of his best friend - the death of his brother.

Ranboo cried softly, crown left inside his home, standing beside a softly grieving Quakity. The two of them had been the ones to spend the most time with Tommy, other than Dream, and so it was only natural for them to be effected. Fundy had forgotten that Ranboo had been meaning to go over there that week, give him some baked goods and a hug. Fundy had forgotten how close they really became.

Finally,   
Dream stood at the back. Hood up, mask moved all the way over his face. That damn painted smile seeming to mock the ceremony - Fundy wished that he had just left it at home, like Eret and Ranboo had done with their crowns. But no. He had to bring that damn mask.  
Dream's hands we in his pockets, his posture the almost looking normal for Dream. If it wasn't for the slight hunch in his back, the way his shoulders shook just slightly every few intakes of breath, Fundy would never have guessed he even cared.

A few words were spoken, mainly by Eret - he was the most capable at the time. It was nothing special, your classic "he was too young" and "he didnt deserve this" were spoken, and Fundy heard Niki sob a little harder when Eret softly said "He didn't deserve to be alone"

It hurt more than the king had intended, clearly, though no one made an attempt to stand up to him.   
They all knew he was right.

It was after the funeral, that everything started to catch up to Fundy.

He was sitting on the mountain side, overlooking L'manberg, watching the sunset, when it really hit.  
Tommy was dead.  
No respawn.  
No more funny jokes, or loud laughter, no more complaining, no more making fun of Dream, no more gentle music playing from his prized music discs, no more conversations between Tommy and Tubbo that made Eret laugh, no more flour covering every part of Niki's bakery after he tried to bake one thing or another - no more of Niki's laughter that always followed as she helped him clean up.   
Ghostbur wouldnt leave for a few days and then come back with exciting tales of what he and Tommy did in Logstedshire anymore.  
Ranboo wouldn't get excited to see Tommy, wouldn't be running around trying to find something to give that would mean a lot anymore.

Tommy was gone and so were all the things, all the good, and important things, that came with him.  
Fundy couldn't help the choaked sob that escaped him, putting a paw over his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound as his breathing got shallower.  
Tommy was his uncle, his family, even if he never said so.  
And he was gone.

He shuddered as he tried to calm down. He looked around, finding it odd that he felt cold on such an inappropriately nice day. And then he heard it.

It started as a whisper, stuttered through clattering teeth and soft as a gust of wind - but he heard it, clear as he could see the sun.  
He heard the whisper of his name.  
"F-Fu-undy-y?"

Fundy's head snapped around, hears twitching as he tried to locate the sound of the voice.  
"F-Fund-dy?" The voice echoed unnaturally, sounding like Ghostbur, while sounding nothing like him.  
He stood and turned around a few times, before calling out, "Hello? Whose there?" 

There was silence, stretching on for a long moment, before a soft, almost undetectable sob came from somewhere around him, "Y-y-you can he-ear m-me?" The voice squeaked, sounding small.

"Yeah? You're quiet but loud enough to hear - where are you?"

Another stretch of silence, before Fundy noticed something in the tree line. A soft, dulled flash of a red and white t-shirt peaking out from behind a tree, looking pulled down by water.  
A blue tinted, grey hand gripped the bark - arm shaking lightly.  
Blond hair, dull in colour and pushed down by water, framed a blue tinted grey face, with ice blue eyes staring back at him. Unblinking and still.

"Tommy?" His own voice was barely a whisper, taking a small step forward, he paused when the blond flinched and shuffled back, a harsh shiver wracking his thin frame as he moved. Water dripped on to the grass below.  
"Y-yes?"

And now he could tell it clearly.  
Of course that voice belonged to Tommy - who else could it have belonged to?  
It was just so... soft, quiet... nervous and shy.  
It was nothing like the loud abrasive Tommy he knew.

"Tommy.... I- do- do you remember where you are?"

Tommy paused, looking around the tree slightly, body still shivering, and looking out over the cliff side,   
"L-L'manb-berg" he finally said, ice blue eyes coming back to rest on Fundy, who nodded.  
"And... you remember me?"

Tommy was quiet, for a lot longer than he was the previous times, before he spoke again, "N-n-not r-really... I-I kn-know tha-at you-you're Wilbur's son though, a-and a few o-other things"  
"Good things?"  
Tommy paused again, seemingly thinking about his answer, "A-a f-few, no-not man-ny, I remem-mber bo-both good and ba-ad. I-I kn-now I-I'm not supposed to be he-here"

Fundy paused, before nodding, a small smile crossing his face sadly, as he reached out a hand.  
"Do you want to come home?"

Tommy looked genuinely surprised, and it hurt so much more than he thought it would,   
"Bu-but Dr-r-ream sai-said he'd do so-so-something to L-L'manber-rg" he squeaked, looking absolutely terrified at the prospect.

Fundy stepped closer,  
"He won't do anything now. I promise, Tommy."

Tommy's ice coloured eyes flooded with tears, and his body started shivering harsher, "I-I w-w-want to g-g-go ho-home"

If Fundy hadn't been watching, he would have thought someone had placed ice into his hand. But instead it was just Tommy's hand, gently laying against his paw, shaking lightly.  
"Come on, you'll love the Christmas tree"

Tommy followed along, silent, cold, and shivering.  
But he was home.  
Fundy didnt want to drag him off to see Niki, and Eret, or Ranboo, and Quackity, not when he seemed to skittish.  
But as they rounded a corner into L'manberg, Tommy's weak grasp was wrenched from his own, when Wilbur (not ghostbur, he looked like Wilbur, he sounded like Wilbur) pulled the younger into a tight hug.  
Tommy squeaked, but relaxed when he saw who it was, a shivering hand coming up to grab at the sweater.

"Dad and Techno are here, Tommy," Wilbur spoke, soft and gentle, "They're gonna be so happy to see you - and they want to stay in L'manberg, but only if you want to"

Tommy nodded,  
He didn't say a word, but Wilbur didn't care.

He had his brother back, a second chance, he could really protect and comfort him now.  
And as Wilbur caught a glimpse of green dissapeadling around a building, and his grip tightened on his little brother just slightly more.  
He felt an emotion he hadn't felt since he died.

He felt angry.  
And he wouldn't let Dream hurt his brother again.


End file.
